Snow
by RedAugust
Summary: (One shot) It's snowing. It's coming down like feathers from a plucking bird with enough feathers to blanket the universe. Did that sound weird? Okay, so I'm not a writer, sue me. I'm an archer. The best archer from kingdom come and around Mars, right back to where I'm standing. I don't care if you don't believe me.


Snow.

It's snowing.

I haven't seen snow in over four months. It shouldn't seem odd since it doesn't typically snow at least four months of the year around here. But I remember sun. More sun than I care to mention.

I can't remember the last time I saw a cloud aside from now. And now it's snowing. Can I cry about this? Why am I crying? Damn it. I don't know. I don't want to remember either.

My God, this is beautiful.

It's coming down like feathers from a plucking bird with enough feathers to blanket the universe.

Did that sound weird?

Okay, so I'm not a writer, sue me. I'm an archer. The best damn archer from kingdom come and around Mars, right back to where I'm standing. I don't care if you don't believe me.

So I've been busy lately. Killing people is my hobby. I do it for hire and it pays pretty crappy. I need a raise. I need a vacation. I hardly notice the smell of blood anymore, my nose needs a break.

I'm sucking on a jaw breaker. It's past the flavor coating and now I'm just swallowing spit and sugar. I'm going to bite it in a minute, but I got hit pretty hard in the jaw a minute or two ago. Or maybe it was twenty minutes. How long have I been standing here?

I can't help but stare at this guy. He's just laying there waiting to die. I can see him crying and his wife is in the corner. She wasn't supposed to be here. Neither was his son. He took the first shot. I let another one that hit my intended target, this whelp dying in front of me. I only came in to check on the kid.

I'm such an idiot sometimes. Why did I come in?

His wife is screaming at me, words I care not to repeat. Things like 'you bastard' and 'how could you'. My reply, had I my voice right now, would be 'yes I am' and 'I'm getting paid for this, bitch, shut up'.

God, why am I crying?

I feel like a fool.

I don't want to do this anymore. But I only have one talent, one skill and that's all. What am I supposed to do with my life? This is all I have and I'm getting paid for this, bitch self, so shut up.

He reaches for his wife.

I stomp on his wrist, the desperate little wretch. Die already.

I leas another arrow into his back between the shoulders.

He finally dies.

The kid's dead too.

The woman hits me in the same place as last time and runs back to her corner muttering a curse of some kind.

Thank you, woman, for noticing how susceptible I am to those kinds of things. If you really hate me you'll curse me with a bullet to the head.

But I don't want to die.

I just want everyone else to stop dying.

Why do people die so easily?

She sinks down in her corner until she's sitting on the floor. She starts to beg me to take her too. She doesn't want to be left without her family.

I stare at her, trying to figure. Why would she want to die? Why not live and seek revenge? That would be more logical. That's what everyone else did. They all ended up dead too, but that would be more honorable than begging death. Right?

It's snowing. I can't feel the cold from in here but I am cold inside.

I can't move my feet, but my legs start to wiggle like they want to walk. I can hear music downstairs.

I stare at the ceiling.

The woman in the corner cries out to God. Screaming. She's scared.

Have I lost my mind?

Why am I crying?!

The kid on the floor, once dead, shifts. He's moving.

I stare at him, eyes so wide they're threatening to dry out.

He sits up and drags himself to his mother's side.

She hugs him, sobbing, bawling and thanking God and ignoring me.

My first thought is to end her happy. There's no way her son is going to live now.

I watch. I watch her hold him, kiss him, cry into his hair, wipe blood from her hands on his face from touching his wound and trying not to touch it, trying gracelessly to see if he's going to be okay. There's still an arrow in him. It looks stupid.

This kid is alive and pierced through. How strange. I hate that. I don't understand what's keeping this kid conscious.

I didn't exactly hit his heart. I was aiming for his father's heart when he stepped in front of the open window. I hit him in the back but it should have severed or at least grazed his spinal cord. He shouldn't be moving. He did drag his legs when he went to her, so I suppose it makes some sense.

God, he's got to be in a lot of pain right now.

I draw back another arrow. I don't want them to suffer anymore. I don't want to hear them cry anymore. I should have held my fire before. I shouldn't have loosed a single arrow until I was sure he was alone. Now he's dead and I have to clean up my mess.

She starts screaming again. I can't stand that sound.

I pull back hard and breathe out slowly to steady myself. I want to get them both with one shot and kill them both instantly.

She starts to beg God again, this time for life.

She wants to live now. Her boy means that much to her.

What am I doing?

Why is it snowing?

What am I doing here?

Who hired me?

What authority does he have over their lives?

It's in my hands now and I've done my job. 'No loose ends' my ass.

I shoot the wall over their heads at the last second.

She goes quiet while she figures out that she's still alive.

I smile at her when she looks at me. Don't ask me why.

I see her bruises and I'm smiling.

She huffs a laugh at her boy who is crying too.

I'm crying too.

It's snowing.

"Thank you, Clint." She stands slowly and comes to me.

I lower my bow to my side and let her take my free hand in both of her shaky grips.

"Thank you." She says again and I nod.

I'm still smiling. I just killed a man. Why the hell am I smiling?

I guess her father told her I was coming. I don't think he told her that I was here for her too. Only the boy was meant to live and go stay with grandpa, the guy with the wallet for me. Filthy rich people and their schemes. Why did he want his daughter dead? She's sweet.

Her husband had beat her repeatedly over the years as well as their son. Maybe 'grandpa' wanted her to die because she didn't know; as in 'how could she not know?' He said she was so scarred it wasn't worth her blood and tears and to just tie up the loose ends. I guess if he found out I spared them he'd take money from me rather than give it to me; which would be a disaster considering I need to afford a plane ticket out of here by morning.

When did I become so poor?

She returns to her son's side and looks at me again. She wants to know if I can help him. I guess she's just assuming I hit him by accident. Fair enough, it's most of the truth. Mostly it was that I had been staked out on a roof top across the street in the hot sun for twelve hours waiting for this guy to come into a good spot in the window. I had been patient and had my shot. I didn't hesitate. Under normal circumstances I might have because his wife had come in too. But I didn't really notice her until my fingers had straightened out.

I guess that's just how it goes.

I shake my head and tell her to take him to a hospital and I say sorry before advising her to get as far away from this place as possible.

I watch her realize that this was more than she thought it was. Tears come back to her eyes and slip down her cheeks quietly. She kisses me on the cheek, don't ask me why I let her, and gathers her son in her arms. She tries to get him to the door but even that far was painful for me to watch. I help her carry him down to a car and leave.

It's snowing.

They don't make it to the hospital.

I won't get paid.

Grandpa doesn't survive either.

He was so reckless. Which, in a way, is ironic because he caused a wreck.

The woman and her son die. He dies instantly like his grandpa but the woman dies slowly, the last thing from her lips as she can see me walking away as if I didn't notice the crash, is 'thank you'.

I'm such a fool.

I dream. Strange, huh? Well it happens. Don't ask me why.

It's late at night after a long day of sun come back that melted all of the snow and I'm dreaming.

I remember him. The man I killed, and every other before him. I remember the first. I remember my brother.

That's not right.

Why do I do this to myself?

Why do I sleep knowing I'll dream?

When I wake, it's snowing, but the sun is up.

Why am I crying?

I don't know. I don't want to remember either.

It's been snowing for a while.

The sun won't come back out enough to melt the snow today. I can't even see the horizon.

"Clint."

I turn to the one who called my name. My eyes glue to his.

"Everything taken care of?"

I nod.

He smiles.

I don't really know who he is. He sort of adopted himself as my shadow. He finds pleasure in my work and admires my aim. I wish I knew someone who didn't who was as fearless as him.

I watch a red headed woman disappear into a back alley and some officers run right past her. She's quick.

A tall black man with one eye walks over to me proclaiming that he finally found me. He has some men chase away the strange man that shadows me.

I stare at him and he smiles as warmly as a mysterious figure such as himself can.

He offers me redemption. He offers me a salary. He offers me double what any other ever had on one condition. I sign my loyalty to him for life. He's with the government. I'm a hit man. This guy's out of his mind.

Nonetheless I accept.

It's snowing. And my whole life was the same last time, and with the same snow, everything changed.

I ask him for a favor.

It's snowing.

Why am I crying?

He asks what he can do for me.

It's snowing.

I'm crying.

"Forgive me?"

He looks confused, "For what?"

"I've done a lot in my life and my hands are dripping and my heart is cold. I play a smile like I haven't a care and that makes me a liar too."

"Then do me a favor." He asks in return.

I agree.

"I need you to go after one more person. Depending on how you handle it, I will forgive you."

Why do people die so easy?

I agree.

He tells me her name, what she's done, and what she does. She's just like me. She kills with her hands and electro shock from devices on her wrists. She's slippery. He wants me to go 'take care of her'.

I go.

I find her.

It's snowing.

I ready my bow.

She sees me.

I lower my arrow.

She attacks in self defense.

I don't blame her. I would too if someone threatened to shoot me. I'd get them before they changed their mind.

I pin her.

She pins me.

Why am I laughing?

It isn't snowing. I'm delusional. But her eyes are as confused as my consciousness. My subconscious seems to find this scenario funny.

She gets up and backs off.

I get up and introduce myself.

She asks me what I want.

I tell her everything. That was unusual.

She smiles.

"Natasha." She shakes my hand.

It isn't snowing. It's sunny. I've seen more sun than I care to admit but it's warm. My heart feels warm. My soul sets itself and I feel comfortable. Who is this girl?

She makes a comment. Frankly, I have reason to believe I missed it in my ears but my face and lungs seemed to know what she said.

Why am I laughing?

She's funny. She's sweet. She's alive. She's fearless. She's just like me.

I love-

What did I just think? What was that feeling?

I don't know. I don't want to remember either.

I just want her to smile more. It makes me feel human.

I take her with me to the facility of my new employment.

The director, the tall black man with one eye, sees us come in together.

She swears her loyalty.

He smiles at me.

I'm forgiven.

Why am I crying? Why am I laughing? Have I gone mad?

She laughs too.

I'm not mad.

I'm just happy.

Finally.

It's snowing.

Weather is strange.

So is life.

Why am I writing this out?

Why is it formatted so strangely?

Okay, so I'm not a writer, sue me. . I'm an archer. The best damn archer from kingdom come and around Mars, right back to where I'm standing. I don't care if you don't believe me.

So I've been busy lately. Killing people is my hobby.

But I saved this girl, Natasha and she isn't afraid of me. I have a new job that pays well with benefits and security options. No one here is judging me and it's a well lit place to be. It may be snowing, but life is better now. I have purpose.

It's snowing.

God, it's beautiful.

Life may not be beautiful and you may think this will never end. But the thing is, it snows every year. You have no idea how much time has passed or what I've been through aside from what I've told you. You're only in my head once in a while. Besides, this may never end so long as I have a mind of my own. I'm not sorry.

Really, though, I just wanted to tell you how I got here. I just wanted you to know it snowed.


End file.
